The Names of His Children
by laliquey
Summary: Sandy visits home for Christmas seven years later and sees how her old beau's life has changed. SodapopxCherry


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

My father picked me up at the airport, and we were only a few miles down the road when he said, "You never should have let that Curtis kid get away."

I remembered my mistake all the time, but why would he? "What makes you say that?"

"Didn't you see the billboard?"

"No." There were lots of them on Highway 11 between the airport and town, but I'd missed the one he meant.

"He's a bit of a local celebrity nowadays."

"Really?"

"He's made a small fortune selling property. Not houses, but big-ticket stuff like ranches and acreage. His mug's all over the place, in fact, you couldn't miss it if you tried."

"Oh." I sank back into my seat and pretended like it didn't bother me. There was so much baggage connected with this visit, which was the first since I'd left.

There were lots of reasons why I stayed away so long, the biggest of which was my baby's father. Very few people know that besides the original pregnancy scandal, it was by a much older married man and friend of our family that I'd been seeing. I felt bad that Sodapop got swept up in the mess, but I was too disoriented and scared to think of anyone else. I didn't keep the baby, by the way. My mother said not to, and my own choices had been so bad I let someone else make that decision.

It was scary and thrilling to come home again. For one thing, I still thought about Soda all the time. I'd intercepted one of his letters before Gran sent it back, and there was a desperation and passion in his writing that seemed like it'd smolder inside him for years.

_I'll wait as long as it takes, _he'd written._ And whatever I'm doing, I'll drop everything for you. Please come back. We belong together. You know we do. _

His promises were seven years old, but my plan was to call him up during the lull between Christmas and New Years, and maybe we could get together for a reunion of sorts. He was (and still is) the warmest, kindest person I'd ever known, so it felt important to try.

It turned out there was no need to call him because I saw him by accident at the shopping center.

I was there for last-minute Christmas shopping and got stuck watching a costumed Santa take kids on his lap for pictures. Such things usually depress me and make me miss my own child, but a little strawberry blonde girl in red velvet was so cute I had to stop and smile.

After issuing her wish list to Santa, she jumped off his lap and ran to her daddy.

It was him.

My stomach buckled into a knot, because _it was him_. He'd filled out a little and looked more like a man than the borderline boy I remembered, but was just as handsome as ever in beat-up jeans and a wool sweater with a crisp oxford shirt underneath. He caught me staring and walked over with that same light bounce that no one else has.

"Sandy? Is that you?"

"Yeah," I said, suppressing the sting of tears. "It's me."

"Wow, it's been a while." He studied me and said, "You look great!" It wasn't true but still nice of him to say, and he crushed me in a tight hug that made my knees weak. The scent of spice clung to his neck, and he felt taller and stronger than before.

"It's so good to see you."

"You, too! Are you back forever, or just the holidays?"

His little girl wandered off to admire Santa from the roped-off perimeter of the fake North Pole, and I stumbled through my explanation, which might have been crafted to sound less depressing if I'd had time to think. "I'm here for two weeks, then back to Florida and Gran and a restaurant job I hate. But at least the tips are good."

"Aw, that sounds okay. Your little one must be what? Six or seven years old now? And over there waiting to see Santa, I'll bet."

"He's six," I said carefully. "But he's not in line. He was adopted when he was two days old." He was a quiet, sweet little baby I'd called Michael while he was mine.

"Oh, Sandy. I didn't know." His voice lowered and he put a hand on my shoulder. "Gosh, I'm so sorry. That's got to be tough."

"It's okay. It was for the best," I said, and shook it off as I'd had to every day since Michael's birthday. Sodapop never once thought the baby was his...we'd done plenty when we were dating but not everything. I was always sorry about that. "Do you mind if I change the subject?"

"'Course not, honey."

"Okay." I got my confidence back up and said, "It sounds like you've done really well for yourself."

"Nah," he said modestly. "I just found something I'm not too bad at."

"With all your intuition about people you must be great at it. Did you graduate?"

"Nope, still a dropout. But I hired a smart assistant. It turns out you really _do_ use math in real life!" He flashed that old smile and said, "That little cutie over there's mine, as you probably guessed. She's almost three."

"She's adorable."

"She's gonna be trouble for her old dad when she grows up. You should meet her. Hey, Polkadot! C'mere, kid!"

"You named your kid Polkadot?" I asked, before thinking _of course you did._

"No, her name's Polly."

"Polly. That's cute."

"Yeah, Polly Valentine because she's got a February birthday, but I like callin' her Polkadot. Don't I, sweetheart? Can you say hi to daddy's friend Sandy?"

"No." She clung to his leg and looked up at me with his eyes.

"Don't be shy, baby. Anyway, I wanted her name to be different but not _too_ different, you know? In fact, I got all my kids' names picked out. I kinda want three girls and four boys, but my wife says I'm crazy. We'll see."

_His wife._

His wife appeared as if on cue with a shopping bag he tried to snatch away, and she swung it behind her back with a laugh. "Don't ruin your surprise, it's for Christmas!" I recognized her from our school - the Soc cheerleader with red hair and teeth like a row of pearls. She was somehow even prettier than ever, and you could tell Sodapop worshiped her by the way he looked at her. They even had another baby on the way.

"Cherry, this is my friend Sandy from way back in high school," Soda said, and she extended a graceful hand to shake.

"Hello," she said with a friendly smile. "You can tell he hasn't grown up any." She elbowed him gently and they smiled at each other like Hollywood royalty.

"It's true. I don't know how she puts up with me."

Cherry gave him a soft look that implied it was no trouble at all, and I asked about a neutral subject to lessen the discomfort only I seemed to feel. "How are your brothers doing these days?"

"Well young Pony's home from college - he's going to Vanderbilt, which I guess is real good. You wanna hear a funny story?"

"Oh, Sodapop," Cherry said. "Don't tell it."

"C'mon honey, she's known him for years and it's cute. Okay, so as smart as my kid brother is, he forgot to pack underwear. He's somewhere around here shopping for new." Just then a sharp little cry caught his attention. "Uh oh."

Polly had tripped and fallen in some fake snow, and he ran to tend to her while Cherry finished his story. "Darry's in Texas working on an oilfield. He's not coming home for Christmas." God, even her frown was gorgeous. "He'll make a pile of money if he stays, but Soda said if we don't see him for at least a week this spring he's gonna start taking it personally."

"They've always been such a close family."

"Yeah. It's nice, isn't it? I love how they still look out for each other, even though they're grown."

Our conversation mercifully died on its own just as Soda returned with his daughter slung on his hip. "We should go find Ponyboy before it gets too late," he said. "But Sandy, why don't you call us if you have time? We'd love to see you for dinner or something, if you aren't too busy with your folks and all."

"Thanks. I'll do that."

"Okay, take care. We'll see you soon." He set Polly down so we could hug goodbye, and as I walked away I heard him insist that he carry the shopping bag because Cherry shouldn't exert herself, and no, he wouldn't peek, and no, Polly, you know mama can't carry you. But daddy can.

Feeling worse didn't seem possible until Ponyboy caught up with me a few minutes later in the parking lot.

"Hey, Sandy, wait up."

It was a shock how tall he'd grown. "I just saw your brother!"

"Yeah, I heard," he said stonily. He was tall as Darry and every bit as serious.

"I didn't know he was married. Cherry's real nice, though. And so pretty."

"She sure is. Having Soda's kids really agrees with her, I guess. She's got that glow and stuff." He looked at the ground and said, "Look, Sandy, I don't mean to be a jerk, but don't call my brother, okay?"

"I wasn't going to."

"Okay, good. I'm sorry, it's just that..."

Tears stung my nose. There was no need to say it.

"He's happy now."

"It's alright. I understand."

"Thanks," he said softly.

"Well, have a good visit." I couldn't even look him in the eye. "Good luck with school, too."

"Thanks. I hope you have a good time seeing your folks. Merry Christmas, Sandy."

"Merry Christmas to you, too."

I drove back to my parents' house in a daze, and without the presents I'd gone out for.

I hated my younger self for thinking a married man was dangerous and exciting, and hated my current self for not keeping in better touch with Evie. She still lived in town and would've warned me that chasing a second chance with Sodapop Curtis was the second worst idea I'd ever had.

Even now I find myself wondering about the names he had ready for the six babies. Probably flowery, pretty ones for the girls and cowboy names for the boys...

I'm glad he's happy, I really am. I try not to feel sorry for myself, but sometimes it's really, really hard.

Those children might have been ours.

I'd had my chance with him and lost it.


End file.
